Introduction

I am a male, retired police officer. Dodie is my
daughter and wrote this story when I took her to The Wall in 1995. I was
in the Army during Vietnam but did not go there. I am very emotional
about The Wall and the men and women who served and died there.

After we were at The Wall, she wrote this story and gave it to me on a crumpled up
piece of paper. I have carried it since then in my Bible. I STILL cry
everytime I read it. I felt I had to share it with people that could
understand. She does not know that I sent it to you. I will show her
your e-mail and let her reply.

Godspeed,
Raye Hecker

Hi, this is Dodie. No one I knew died in Vietnam; but while I was at
The Wall, I was moved by the number of people who died and the way many
people acted at The Wall. Many people seemed to not care that the
wall in front of them was a remembrance for people who had died for
them and acted very disrespectfully. I got angry at the insolent
people and their disrespect.

I also was moved by some pictures I saw
while in Washington, D.C. I think they were the pictures called
"Reflections." There were three different pictures, one of a business man
crying while touching the wall and the reflections of the men that died
in Vietnam.

I wrote this story for the memory of those who had died and for
me to remember all that they had done for me.

(Updated April 2002)

Heroes

As I walked along the path feeling the pain all over again, I thought of
how many others had walked this same path, felt this same pain, and the
anger that I was feeling. To my left was a black stone wall that seemed
to block out the sun, and on my right were people laughing and talking,
children playing, and birds singing. I wanted to scream. I wanted them to
remember, I wanted them to know, to feel the pain I was feeling.

I looked up and saw a boy kneeling before The Wall talking. I approached him to
see what he was doing. He looked up at me, and smiled.
"This is where my daddy lives."

The boy pointed to an engraved name on
the Stone Black Wall. "I come here all the time and talk to him. I never
met my daddy; he was gone saving people's lives when I was born. And
before he could come home, he got hurt and went to Heaven. I miss him
all the time and wish he hadn't died, but then I get mad at myself for
being selfish. If my daddy hadn't died, people wouldn't have lived. I
put my picture by him so he wouldn't forget what I looked like. On the
back, I put my age because today is my 5th birthday. I sure wish he was
here; but instead of getting sad, I get happy because I know my daddy is
a hero."

As I walked away from the boy, I began to cry. The tears weren't tears
of anger or pain; but tears of joy because I knew a hero, too.

EDitor's NOTE: Dodie wrote "Heroes" when she was 14 years old, and now she is graduating from college next month. We, on the "VVHP" Web Site, wish her all the wonder and wonderful Blessings that this world can hold.

CONGRATULATIONS, Dodie; and all our love to you and your family! Thank you for "being there" for our "Heroes!"